Roughing it.

Despite reader speculation that I haven’t posted in a few days because I have been camped out in front of a theater waiting for the new Twilight movie, I actually have an alibi for my short disappearance from the blogging world and it has nothing to do with the war between control-freak vampires and ‘roid-raging werewolves.

Pathetically enough, I have spent the better part of this week camped out on my couch, trying to cope with pregnancy-induced hormones.

One look at my narcoleptic, nauseous and vomiting self, complete with the skin of a teenager that just hit some serious puberty, and it is crystal clear that all this HCG and progesterone is seriously kicking my butt.

If you need more evidence, all you need to do is look at my recent behavior and you will see an emotional wreck of a woman.

I cried through Toy Story 3. We took my son to his first movie at the theater and in a dark room full of preschoolers, I bawled my eyes out. Not once. Three times.

Those darn toys just make me so sentimental.

I also almost had a complete mental breakdown yesterday after I took my oldest to his new summer gym class at the university. It was his first day and when we got there I mentioned to his teacher that we still hadn’t received the parking permit that we had paid for. (You need a permit to park anywhere on that campus – and I am well aware of this because my husband and I used to attend school there back when we first met. Yes, we are college sweethearts. Barf.)

Anyways, the instructor explained to me that she would have the permit for me at the next class. At first, I accepted that as a reasonable solution. His class is only 90 minutes long, and the parking lot rent-a-cops couldn’t possibly go through that often. Right?

Well, as Murphy’s Law would have it, guess what I found waiting on my windshield an hour and a half later?

parking_ticket

That’s right. A freaking bright-ass pink parking ticket.

I loaded up the kids in the van and then got out my cell phone and dialed the number on the ticket.

I explained to the woman who answered that I was issued a ticket but that I had paid for a permit and it had not been given to me by the instructor.

She said I would have to appeal the ticket and that it still might not get overturned.

That’s when I lost it. It was a flipping $40 parking ticket and I wasn’t about to go through an appeal process when I had done exactly what I was supposed to do. I paid for a stupid permit weeks ago so that those power-junkie a-holes would leave my windshield wipers alone.

I would also like to point out that I have never been issued a parking ticket in my entire life. I always park where I am supposed to, not where I want to. I even find it amusing to make fun of the idiots on that show Parking Wars. I mean, how dumb do you have to be to park your car unlawfully enough times to get your tire booted? Read the signs, people.

So, I was infuriated. I unloaded the kids (and wrestling with those car seats is a time-consuming pain in the ass) and I dragged them back to the class to speak with my son’s teacher about the situation.

Here’s the problem, when I am on hormone overload, my anger manifests itself as overwhelming panic and I turn into a shaking, crying mess. I managed to hold it together as I explained to Kamryn’s teacher how the lady at the parking department was “really, really mean” and that I didn’t think that this ticket was my responsibility since I had paid for a permit.

She explained to me that she had went to the parking department to pick up the permits for the parents of her students and that the parking department told her they would not be ready until Thursday.

In case you didn’t catch that, that means that the parking department is fining me $40 because they didn’t have my permit ready in time for the first day of class.

What a bunch of douche bags.

The good news is Kamryn’s teacher was really apologetic about the whole thing. She took the ticket and assured me that she would take care of it when she went to go pick up the permits.

So there. Take that Parking Services.

If they try and give me another ticket before I get that all-powerful permit, I am going to take that stupid pink waste of paper directly to their office. While there, I will take advantage of this horrendous, non-stop morning sickness and upchuck all over their lovely floor.

Uncontrollable vomit has to be good for something.

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